


Mirabilis Visu

by Lysimache



Category: The Aeneid - Virgil
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:12:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysimache/pseuds/Lysimache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fortunati ambo! Si quid mea carmina possunt,<br/>nulla dies umquam memori vos eximet aevo,<br/>dum domus Aeneae Capitoli immobile saxum<br/>accolet imperiumque pater Romanus habebit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirabilis Visu

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gileonnen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gileonnen/gifts).



The streets of Troy were full of shouting, singing, laughter: sounds not heard in Troy for many a long year now. Garlands of flowers appeared in the hands of maidens, perhaps placed there by some god of other, I don't know. Running in a mass we hurtled towards the gates so long gloomy, but which now at last stood open to look upon the fields standing empty, empty of Greeks, our enemies now fled.

We wandered throughout the camp of the Greeks, then, the sun shining brightly overhead like a ball tossed up by a child who, at the start of a holiday, has tossed aside the much-hated schoolbooks, the tablets and stylus, and has run to the street to see what adventures he can find waiting; he runs towards his friends and they play almost frantic to not lose a minute of the day long-awaited.

I was not so long out of the school bench myself, lest you think me some old man, wrinkled and worn, but the years filled with war had taken their toll on the hardiest man who fought round Troy's citadel, Pergamum, high-walled.

Now everywhere were children, old men, women, pointing out the sights that had long held for us terror: here was the spot where once great Achilles had tented it up, held close both the cause of his anger when taken away, the maiden Briseis, and there too had cherished the elder Patrocles (remarkable to say), his beloved, although in years he outshone Peleus' son, lord of the people. Here too the field where in his deep rage he had come upon our strong prince, Hector, had pursued him like a lion, stalking its dinner, a young gazelle or a heifer, watching at first from afar until he finds the right moment, and then in a giant leap he strikes out and pours out the prey’s warm blood in a puddle that stains all the ground 'til the roots of the tall trees, their branches, even their fruits turn dark with the spilled blood.

So too Achilles slew Priam's son, Hector, and dragged him about the walls with pitiless fury, until at last (here the spot!) when a father’s warm tears softened the heart in his breast and the son of Peleus remembered his own father’s old grief; then we held our games, saddest memory!, but ah, also so sweet with the victories hard-won: for I myself had come first when we ran altogether a race, to find the fleetest of foot amongst the Trojans. Good prince Aeneas, pious and true, had awarded me then a silver wine-cup, carved with high skill once by a craftsman from Tyre; and as well a green laurel wreath to crown my head’s top with much-envied glory.

We drew near the sea then, empty of boats, nor could we see off-shore the Greek vessels sailing; all was still in the air, not the cry of a bird or the crash of a wave heard. "Have they gone?" we were asking, not trusting our eyes nor our ears, but now only a leader of men, such as left we had few, but first among them Aeneas.

And as I too scanned the rocks, wishing no sign might appear that the Achaeans ever intended return, but instead were now on their way homeward across the wide waters, my eyes fell upon the face of a youth to me unfamiliar: hair the color of bronze having been burnished to bright copper gleam, wound in tight curls; eyes bright as emeralds, skin white as foam; and a form such as would not have disgraced Adonis or in his youth long ago the aged Anchises. He walked near the surf with a woman I took as his mother, and at each other they smiled, like all of us, glad to see the Danaans gone.

A youth so perfect in bloom I had not imagined there to be left in our city, so many of our young men having fallen upon Argive spearhead, piercing their white flesh and opening to let the blood from their veins out, but this one here, this youth like a young god's son or some other (dare I say it?) being more than human, here he was walking and laughing and dancing with joy!

Then for the first time I began to feel that my sorrows might be lifted, and some hope of safety might truly be appointed by the gods in their mercy. I had not the gifts I might wish to court this fair young man, but still I approached the pair, both indeed charming. I made my way thither enjoying the salt spray to smell in the bright air.

"Hail," I called to them, cheerful, "Well met! And good day! For surely this is a day meant for feasting and pleasure, now that our enemies have at long last spread their dark sails hence!"

And as the youth raised his eyes to mine and met my gaze with a smile shy as a maid’s but a glance daring, sure, and first I heard his voice ringing to me with a strength not unpleasing, "Hail, good sir," he replied, "It is indeed a day most befitting laughter and games, a day not to be held in the least solemn." And even his lady mother could find no fault in our conversation and she bade me welcome, asking the name of my father and house, and thus I first learned the name of my Euryalus, beloved, youth beyond all price!

And then he spoke to me with winged words asking if I would join them as they walked through the camp, for surely, said he, I knew and could guide them to all of its sights, tell them the names of the men I had faced there in battle, with what weapons drawn and what speeches made I had killed a vast horde of Danaans? Although I applauded much his brave spirit, so eager to hear, I noticed a sadness in the eyes of his mother, and asked her of this, whether she would find it too painful to revisit such bold deeds; but she, never failing, agreed to walk onward and all through the camp, young Euryalus pressed near my side and exclaimed over my war tales.

At last, our talk ended, we drew near the crowd that had gathered in front of a massive beast, wooden, in the shape of a horse, like a mountain in size (oh, our ruin! and how we recognized it not), and my new, dearest friend was with those who saw in the horse risky peril; in truth, had not his mother and I (unforseeing!) held his arm back, he surely would have driven a dagger into its belly, but he yielded to us, agreeing that our so-called wisdom should guide him. Never more let it be said that Hyrtacus' son cannot learn that sometimes a younger man's thoughts are the better!

As for me, I cared not indeed what we did with that beast of ill fortune; I cared only to bring my beloved back inside the walls of the city, that together we might feast and I could find a garland of flowers to place on his forehead, perfect offering to crown over his beauty. With his mother’s assent, we left then the crowd listening to that Greek traitor--Sinon, I mean, and we heeded not his crafty words meant to trick and deceive us, but rather, together, his mother behind, we walked through the city.

And I found you a rose-crown, that a young woman gave me as we passed by her flower stall, a woman dressed most strange in a huntress’ short garment, very odd for a market. I offered her to pay her, purest bronze, but she shook her beautiful head in refusal, saying instead, "A blessing to you both who find happy love here in war’s midst," and at her words, marvelous sight!, the flame of her oil lamp, sitting beside her, shot up three times in the air, what an omen! and my chest warmed with it, truly.

The flowery garland, I placed on my beloved’s fair curls, but when I turned round to thank her, the lady had abandoned her stall, very strange, but the scent of her flowers I often imagine I can smell, even now, when my beloved rests his head close to my heart. The seas we are sailing, they may be unknown and many dangers await us, but I know we go with the gods' very blessing. O fortunate we who will have surely glory and adventures still spoken long after the name of our city, of Troy, adorned with its high walls, has fallen to ruin, and still will they tell of our love, long-enduring, and always our names shall be joined to each other, Nisus and Euryalus!


End file.
